Olive Grove
by KumoHatake
Summary: Sequel to "Starry, Starry Night", Lars and Matthew are off to a new start in their relationship. However, when Lars receives life-shattering news, he must face yet another part of his past he wishes he could forget. With Matthew by his side, together, they face even more demons of Lars' past. That doesn't seem to be the only thing bothering the couple, however.
1. Chapter 1

**((Author's note**: **I'm back! Before you read, however, I'll fill you in on a few things. This is a sequel to my previous story, "Starry**, **Starry, Night". If you haven't read that, then this story may be a little confusing at moments. I'd much prefer you read that one before you read this, but if you haven't and you still want to read this, then by all means do! And for those who don't know, I ended the last story because I was pretty busy at the time and didn't know what else to do with the story. I can't promise I'll keep up with this story as much as I did then, but I'll do my damn best to post frequently! Reviews are appreciated! Thank you!))**

Soft clouds of dull gray hovered in the sunset sky of orange and crimson. The hues split against themselves towards the horizon as day transitioned into night. A tree had made its home upon a hill overlooking the mystical sky. Its branches extended nearly twice as far as the tree was tall, blossoming into emerald green leaves. A light spring breeze ushered the leaves off their branches, allowing the select few to dance freely in the air. The brushstroke grass followed the flow of the wind, mimicking the motions of the leaves. At the bottom right of the painting, a thin brush dipped in a dark violet, glided against the canvas. A large, beautiful "_L_" was formed in one swift move.

Lars leaned back against his chair, finding two soft hands resting on his shoulders as he did. "What do you think?" he asked, looking up at the person behind him, smiling with pride.

"It's beautiful." Matthew wrapped his arms gently around Lars' chest, kissing the top of his head. It pleased him to see Lars had returned to using joyful, vibrant hues. He had returned to painting his favored subjects. Warm sceneries, soft colors. And even tulips, the very thing he swore he'd never paint again.

Lars rested a paint-stained hand over Matthew's arm, knowing he'd pay no mind. He glanced out the window of his new art studio. Winter transitioned into a much welcomed spring. Fresh buds began to emerge on the tips of trees. The soft warmth of the sun brought a faint heat into Lars' new home through the windows. Finally recognized for his talent, Lars' art began to sell rapidly. From the money he earned and what Matthew was willing to give, he bought a home not too far from Matthew's. It was small, but pleasant and clean. He turned one of the few rooms into an art studio, where he'd spend most of the day painting and drawing. When Matthew came to visit, he'd keep him company and watch him paint.

Beside Lars' work station, on a small desk, a photo of Matthew and Lars faced towards them. They each wore their caps and gowns from their graduation. Francis was also in the photo, with arms around the boys' shoulders and grinning proudly.

Matthew glanced at the framed photo, a quiet surge of self-confidence making him smile. He lowered his head, tucking his long, blond hair behind one ear and watched as Lars stood. He admired his work from a distance, nodding with approval.

"It does look nice," he agreed, standing by his lover. He leaned down to eye level with Matthew and grinned. "Not as nice as you, however," he said, pressing his lips against Matthew's forehead.

Matthew stood on the tips of his toes to embrace the sweet gesture. "I don't know about that," he mumbled shyly, avoiding Lars' affectionate gaze. After a moment, Matthew playfully shoved him away. "You smell like paint. Go clean up," he ordered kindly.

"I always smell like paint," Lars stated, raising a cocky eyebrow. The scar above his eye wrinkled as he grinned. Despite the unfortunate history behind the old wound, it gave Lars' face more character. It had long since healed, and neither he nor Matthew paid much mind to it. It was there, and they were content with keeping the past behind them, especially Lars.

"Well wash up anyways. It's all over your hands." He pouted and pointed to Lars' hand, indeed stained with violet and red paint.

"Fine, fine. Bossy today, are we?" He nudged Matthew with his elbow as he stepped past him.

"W-Well, it's just I was hoping we could go out tonight," Matthew mumbled. "It's been a while since we've been out on a date, you know? I thought we could get dressed and go somewhere nice for once." Matthew's pleading, pitiful eyes locked onto Lars. Lars knew he was acting out so he could get his way. And in a way, it was really cute.

Lars huffed a small laugh and shifted his weight to one leg. "Of course we can go out tonight. Anywhere you want to go." Lars eased over to the doorway. "And…I'll buy this time." He winked and disappeared down the hallway.

Matthew grinned, ecstatic that he agreed. He was quite the sap for romantic evenings. Just as he was leaving the studio, a soft noise caught his ears. He paused and glanced behind him. Beside the framed photo was Lars' phone. It had begun to vibrate. "Lars, your phone is ringing," he announced, walking towards the device to retrieve it.

"Mind answering it for me?" Lars responded from a distance behind a closed door. "I'll be there in a moment."

The phone continued to ring in Matthew's hand. He analyzed the screen carefully. Utterly shocked to see the caller I.D, he nearly dropped the device. It was Bella, Lars' younger sister. How strange it seemed that she would call. From what Lars had said about her, he and his sister weren't close, at least not anymore. She lived in Europe along with their parents. Lars' entire family had shut him out. They hadn't contacted him in months and seemed to go out of their way to avoid him as much as possible. So why would she be calling?

Conflicted Matthew didn't know if he should answer it or hurry to give it to Lars. By then, however, it may stop ringing. Matthew inhaled a shaky breath and answered the phone, placing it up to his right ear. "Um…Hello?"

A soft, quiet-toned voice replied soon after. "Hello? Lars?"

Matthew had never heard Lars' sister before. From the sound of her, she sounded like a very small woman, but she also sounded very off-put and afraid. Her voice sounded scratchy and tired. He quickly thought of a way to answer her.

"N-No, this is a…friend of his," he said. "I can get him for you, though…Just, uh, hold on one moment." He covered the phone with his other hand and dashed down the hall.

The hallways were dimly lit by a small light fixture hanging from the ceiling. The only decoration on the crimson walls was the small copy of Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night. Matthew knew it meant a lot to Lars. The day Lars moved into the new house, Matthew presented it as a "welcome home" gift.

Although it was usually admired, Matthew was in a hurry to give the phone to Lars. He eventually ran himself right into Lars, face pressed against Lars' strong chest.

"You okay?" Lars asked, placing two clean hands on his shoulders and gently pushing him up. Matthew's slightly frightened face made Lars worry. "…Who is it?" he asked in a whisper.

Matthew extended the phone out to him. "It's…your sister," he said hesitantly.

"My _what_?" he asked, as if he had forgotten he had had one in the first place. He stared at the phone for a moment before taking it. He frowned as he lifted it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, staring at the ground.

Matthew backed away a few steps, waiting to see if it would be appropriate for him to stay or leave. It could be a personal, family topic. He wouldn't want to intrude on Lars' privacy. His large, curious eyes watched carefully, waiting for a reaction.

"Yes, it's me," Lars said, his tone suddenly lowering. "Bella? What's going on?" he continued, growing more and more concerned. He glanced at Matthew for a split moment, and for what, Matthew couldn't tell. Could it have been for comfort? For an answer? A signal for him to kindly leave?

Unsure, Matthew took it as a need for him to give him some space. He patted Lars' arm gently and nodded before taking his leave down the hall. He sat himself on the sofa in the living room, beside the fireplace, much like the one in his home.

From there, Matthew was able to hear the muffled sound of Lars' voice. He couldn't help but try to listen. He sat still and lowered his head, hoping to hear maybe a few sentences. He soon realized that wouldn't be possible. The words Lars was now speaking was Dutch, a language Matthew was not familiar with. If Lars had to speak in his native language with his sister, it must be a very serious topic.

Suddenly, Matthew could no longer hear Lars' voice. _Did he hang up, _Matthew pondered. No. If he had, he would be returning to Matthew right now. He waited again, sitting quietly but growing eager to know what had happened. Once again, he heard Lars' voice, but something was off. His tone seemed distraught. He muttered a few unfamiliar words here and there for a few minutes more, then silence again.

Matthew could hear Lars' slow footsteps echoing from the hallway. He stood from the sofa, preparing himself for what was to come. With a low head, Lars entered the room. More than anything, he seemed confused and shocked. He scratched the back of his head, as if figuring out a problem in his head.

"Lars?" he asked quietly. "Is…everything alright?"

Lars stared down at the phone in his hand, fingers tightly wrapped around it. He sighed. "No," he said solemnly, voice cracking under the stress. "She called…to tell me our parents have died."


	2. Chapter 2

"Father, look what I painted!" the proud boy said enthusiastically, holding up a large paper splattered in paint of various hues. The young boy had worked hard on his masterpiece and was quite proud of it.

"That's nice, Lars," the man at the desk mumbled, eyes glued to his work. The pen in the man's hand scratched quickly against paper after paper, file after file. His teeth gritted against the wooden pipe in his mouth, a puff of smoke arising from the center, masking his face.

The six year old lowered the paper and looked up solemnly at his father. "You didn't even look," he grumbled. _You never do,_ he added silently.

"I'm busy," his father growled. "This is very important work, so I must focus. Go show your mother."

The boy knew when he wasn't needed. He lowered the paper to the floor, dragging it behind him out of his father's office. He quietly closed the door behind him and stood in the hall. He stared up at the high ceiling, his eyes trailing the eloquent designs of wood where the wall and roof met. The engravings casted a perfect shadow from the light of the metal chandelier, shaped to mimic branches of a tree. The metal leaves extended outward and wrapped around tiny light bulbs. One could easily mistake them for real candles.

Taking his father's advice, Lars dashed down the hallway, despite always being told to never run in the halls, for it disturbed his parents' work. He took the risk, however, and raced to the grand living room. There his mother sat on an elaborately designed piece of furniture, calmly knitting in silence.

She was a woman of beauty, a goddess in Lars' innocent eyes. She was quiet and soft-spoken, never speaking out of turn or with scorn. Although she never spoke much to her son, Lars assumed she loved him, like any mother would. Her abdomen was extended with her second child. It was to be a girl, she just knew it. She had longed for a daughter all her adult life. This time, she was positive it would be the daughter she had dreamed of raising. Lars had never seen her so happy.

"Mother? Do you want to see what I painted?" Lars asked timidly from around the corner. He peeked his head into the room, eyes wide with hope.

The angelic woman looked up from her work and found her son staring at her from a distance. She placed down the woven pink yarn on the small table beside her and smiled. "Of course I would," she said, just loud enough for her son to hear.

Lars' world lit up as he ran to her with a grin on his face. He hopped onto the couch and placed the wrinkly paper in her lap. His mother picked up the paper with her delicate hands, holding it by the edges.

"It's lovely," she said without much of a tone. "You're a true Vincent Van Gogh."

"A true what, Mother?" Lars asked, tilting his head to one side, his dirty blond hair swishing the same direction.

"Vincent Van Gogh, dear," she repeated.

"Who is Vincent Van Gogh?"

….

"Oh, my God," Matthew whispered, holding his hands over his mouth as he stood. His eyes of disbelief stared at Lars, who was still glaring down at the phone in his hand. Instinctively, Matthew stepped towards him, wrapping his arms around Lars' chest. He pressed his face against his shirt. "I-I am so sorry," he said, struggling to keep his voice even.

Lars put the phone into his pocket, placing his arms around Matthew. He did this not to comfort himself, but to comfort Matthew. He felt his lover's shoulders trembling with sorrow. "Y-Yeah," Lars said, frowning as he stared into space, trying to comprehend this information his sister had just bestowed upon him.

Matthew began to stutter as he pushed himself away. "What-what happened to them? How did they- I mean, did they die at the same time? Was it a- Oh, Lars, I'm so sorry…"

Lars rubbed his forehead, sitting himself down in the closest furniture he could find. "It was, uh, a car accident, Bella told me," he said, his tone reduced to a whisper. "They were…driving at night…in the rain…They must have slipped on the road or…something. Ran off the road and into a tree. They…died instantly." He felt like he was going to throw up now. He felt ill, but there were no tears in his eyes.

Matthew sat himself next to Lars, holding his hand and leaning against him gently. "Baby…I'm so sorry…" He sniffled. "…What are you going to do?"

He sighed deeply. "That's the part I just…Bella wants me there…for the funeral. In Holland. I'll have to buy a ticket, head over there, attended the funeral, discuss the wills they left. I-I just don't know, Matt."

"Would it help if I went with you?"

Lars was quick to shake his head. "I couldn't ask you to come with me. There's a lot of…conflict between me and my sister. With this to top it off, I just…"

A tender hand rested against Lars' cheek. Matthew leaned close, eyes shimmering in the light. "I don't want you to be alone. We have the money for two tickets. I'll go if you'll let me. If you want to go by yourself, that's fine. But I'm willing to go." He offered an understanding smile, cupping his hand around Lars' scruffy cheek.

Lars shut his eyes briefly and sighed once more. "Alright," he said, looking at him. "I want you with me. Please."

"Of course."


	3. Chapter 3

*****Sorry, I've been having some technical difficulties as of late and haven't been able to write…! Hopefully I can get the situation under control soon…!*****

"You're sure you still want to go out tonight?" Matthew asked, standing behind Lars as he got dressed. He held his arm awkwardly and stood at a distance. Assuming the news Lars had received would have upset him, Matthew didn't think he would still be up for going out.

"Of course," Lars said as he straightened his jacket. He turned away from the mirror and looked at Matthew. "Why wouldn't I?"

Matthew stepped up to him, placing his hands on Lars' arms. "Lars, you just got told your parents are dead. Doesn't that…bother you?"

"I promised I'd take you out tonight," he said, lifting his hands to Matthew's shoulders. "And that's what I plan to do." He smiled calmly, leaning down to give Matthew a kiss. But his lips met air. Matthew retreated his face, turning to the side. He solemnly looked down, pondering how Lars could be so easy going about the situation. "Matt?"

"Lars, I…" Matthew turned away, leaning against the bedroom doorway. "I don't understand why you aren't reacting…_normally_ to all this. I know you weren't close to your parents, but even so, shouldn't you be at least a little upset?"

Lars sighed. "It's…complicated, alright? I just don't want to think about it."

"You'll have to eventually. You know that. Tomorrow we'll buy the plane tickets and-"

"I'm not sure I even want to go, Matt," Lars interrupted. He sat on the edge of his bed, confliction in his eyes. "I just…really don't want to go."

"It's not a matter of if you want to go," Matthew snapped, his voice rising. "It doesn't matter if you didn't like them, or if they didn't like you. They're your family. Quit being so selfish!"

Stunned by Matthew's outburst, Lars remained silent for a moment. Was this going to turn into an argument? They hardly ever argued and if they did, it was only for petty things and was over in a matter of seconds. This was a serious topic, however, and Lars wasn't in the mood for conflict. Lars bowed his head, scratching the back of his neck.

Matthew realized his fault and quickly lowered his tone. "Lars, I…"

"It's fine. It's fine."

He knew it wasn't. He had just hurt Lars, hit a nerve that was never meant to be touched. His parents have died and he was yelling at him. That was no way to show support. He sat himself on the floor in front of Lars, resting his chin on his knee. "I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes wide. "I didn't mean to yell at you. Are…are you mad?"

Lars looked down, the apologetic eyes staring up at him burning a hole in his heart. He smiled and rested a hand on his soft, bouncy head of hair. "I can't stay mad at you," he said weakly.

Matthew hummed sweetly and smiled. "You know? Let's just stay in tonight. Watch a movie or something instead. Wanna just do that?"

"I think that would be fine," he said with a simple nod.

Matthew trailed a finger gently across Lars' chest. "And…maybe we could…do some other stuff?"

"Like what?"

Matthew's cheeks began to brighten. "Well…you know…"

"Matt," Lars sighed, "You say that, but you always back out. I don't want you to say that unless you know you're ready."

"I just want my first time to be…memorable. A-And I'm afraid it'll hurt…I want it, I really do. Honest..." He stared up at Lars longingly. "You're the only person I'd ever trust to do it with."

"I appreciate that." Lars smiled at Matthew, honored to have Matthew's trust. He cupped his hand against his cheek. "If you want to try it tonight, we'll give it a shot, but don't think you _have_ to for my sake. Promise?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "I promise. I want this, too."

"I know."

Matthew frowned. "You…want it, too, don't you? You don't sound very excited about it…"

"Well, you change your mind so often. I get all excited for nothing, you know? It's nothing against you. I understand. I'll wait until you're ready."

The blush on Matthew's cheeks burned brighter at his lover's forgiveness and understanding. He snuggled his face against his knee. "I love you, Lars."

"I love you, too."


End file.
